


Magnified

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: M/M, Marcky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:31:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3236297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's dark, but Nicky's not frightened.  Not with Mark here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magnified

“Nicky.” It was a whisper, so quiet and muffled Nicky could barely tell who the voice belonged to. But he knew. Knew the electricity that swept up his spine, prickling the hairs on the back of his neck. Knew the strong, thick fingers that caressed his hip from behind, the full lips that fell gently to his neck, sucking lightly. Knew the broad presence of his lover, pressing against him from behind.

“Mark.” He whispered softly, reaching back to tangle his fingers in soft hair, feeling Mark alive under his hand. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know.” Mark admitted softly, his hand stroking the back of Nicky’s neck, then down his spine. “It’s dark.”

“Yeah.” Nicky blinked in the pitch black, willing his eyes to adjust. But there wasn’t even the palest speck of light to see by. Nothing except the darkness. “How did you know where to find me? Can you see me?”

There was a pause, and for a moment Nicky would have sworn he could hear Mark thinking. It was there, in the back of his head, like a hum. No words, just the sounds of Mark being. It flared for a moment then disappeared.

“I just… knew.”

Nicky shifted his feet, feeling nothing, but knowing there was something there. He wasn’t falling, he knew that much, but what was there felt insubstantial, as though he was standing on a pocket of air. “Are you frightened?”

There was a soft intake of breath, that gentle humming rising in the back of Nicky’s mind. He liked it, no matter how strange it was. He felt connected to Mark. Then he felt Mark shake his head. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Me either.” He thought maybe he should be. It was so dark here, and he didn’t have the first clue of where he was. They’d been walking together, and suddenly he had been here, alone. And he’d been frightened.

But then Mark had come.

He turned in Mark’s arms, pressing his cheek to Mark’s and breathing him in. Mark always smelled good, but here he smelled more real. If there was such a thing. Nicky smiled, looping his arms around Mark’s neck, feeling arms encircle his waist, pulling him close.

“I love you.”

Nicky returned the sentiment, pressing closer to Mark, feeling the hard imprint of teeth through the soft, stubbled skin of Mark’s cheek.

“You feel good.” Nicky whispered, not sure how else to explain it. It was as though Mark was more. As though everything about him was magnified. His smell, his taste, his presence. He felt a hand slip beneath his shirt, and shivered. It was like static, making the hairs on his back stand to attention, itch to feel Mark’s touch.

“I don’t understand what’s going on.” Mark said softly. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know.” Nicky pulled away, looking up. Wanting to see Mark’s face all of a sudden. But he could see nothing. His eyes burned to look at Mark, to drink him in. See if he looked as beautiful as the way he felt. If that was magnified too. “I want to see you.”

“You know what I look like.” Mark chuckled. “You’d better, by now.”

“I know.” Nicky caressed Mark’s cheek with one hand, pulling him closer and bringing their lips together. He moaned softly, the taste almost too much for his tongue. Like a hot, painless blaze, filled with spice and nectar. A quiet murmur of pleasure escaped his lover’s mouth, tickling his tongue.

“Nicky.” Mark breathed, his hands travelling down Nicky’s back. “Oh… Nicky.”

“Marky.” Nicky gasped, wanting to push closer, but not able to. They were already pressed as close as they could go, Mark’s chest crushed against his, their legs so tangled they were almost off-balance. “Baby…” He swallowed, feeling Mark hold him even tighter, almost hurting.

Mark giggled. “Not letting go of you.”

Nicky laughed as well, pulling back a little and lifting his head to kiss Mark’s forehead. “I’m that irresistible, am I?”

“Yep.” Mark smiled, Nicky felt it somehow. “But not as irresistible as me.”

“So modest.” Nicky teased. He pushed back into Mark, resting his head in the taller man’s neck. “And so cute.”

“Not cute.” Mark pouted. “Sexy.”

“That too.” Nicky agreed. “You smell good, by the way.” Something brushed his neck, and Nicky wriggled, laughing when he realised Mark was sniffing him. “Mark!”

“You smell nice, too, Nico.” Mark grinned, his chin hooking over the top of Nicky’s head, fitting them together like puzzle pieces. Nicky sighed, pressing into Mark, feeling the pulse in that warm neck. He fancied for a moment that he could hear Mark’s blood rushing through his veins.

They stood in a long silence, enjoying each other’s company. Nicky loved this, the way he felt safe and content, wrapped up in love. He could hear Mark thinking again. Mark being. Nicky smiled.

“You’re perfect.” He whispered. There was no reply. “Mark?”

“I feel funny.” Mark said quietly. That buzz, that one of Mark’s existence, flared in Nicky’s brain. “Nicky?”

“What kind of funny?” He could feel Mark’s heart beating against his chest, feel him shiver slightly.

“I don’t know. It’s like being dizzy, but I don’t…” There was soft gasp, and a sob. “Don’t let go of me.”

“Why?” Nicky asked. “Mark?”

“Where are you?” Mark asked, his arms pulling away. “Nicky?!”

“Marky?” Nicky was frightened now, and he pulled Mark closer, keeping a tight grip on his shoulders. “I’m right here, love. I’m holding you.” He stroked Mark’s back, kissing his forehead. “I’m right here.”

“I can’t…” There was another sharp sob. “I can’t feel you…”

“It’s okay.” Nicky tried to stay calm, but his voice was trembling, no matter how much he tried to stop it. “It’s okay. I’m not letting go of you.” Mark’s arm’s tightened on his waist again, but too hard, as though he were reaching blindly for something to hang onto. Nicky didn’t stop him.

“I’m scared.”

“I know. Me too.” A sharp sob escaped Nicky’s own mouth. “It’ll be alright. I’m hanging onto you. Just keep listening to my voice.”

“Okay.” Mark sounded faint now, his voice not as magnified as it had been, and Nicky was horrified to feel their solid crush seem to lessen, as though Mark was softer somehow, as though Nicky was sinking into him. Nothing buzzed in his head now. Everything was blank.

“Mark? Keep talking to me babe. Don’t stop talking to me.”

“I’m not. I…” Mark sobbed. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Nicky replied, keeping his voice loud. “Marky… you’re everything to me. Okay? That’s why you need to keep talking to me. I’m not letting go of you. I won’t.”

“I…I…” Mark jerked suddenly in his arms, then fell silent.

“Mark?!” Nicky shook him, but Mark didn’t move at all, as though Nicky’s arms were moving through him. “Mark, you fucking say something right now, do you hear me? Or I am going to be so pissed off at you!”

“Nicky.” Mark sounded weak. “It hurts.”

The relief that swept through Nicky was almost tidal, crashing around him and blinding him for a moment. “What does, babe?” He managed.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything…” His voice was faint, and Nicky felt a hand clutch vainly at his arm. “Nicky… where are you?”

“I’m here.” Nicky replied hoarsely. “Listen to my voice. Right here.”

“Nicky.” Mark’s voice was almost inaudible, and Nicky let out a cry of horror when Mark slipped through his fingers. He didn’t pull away, he just suddenly wasn’t there, as though the touch of Mark’s skin had melted away to nothing.

“Mark?!” Nicky cried, reaching out blindly, groping through the air for something he could touch. Feeling nothing.

It was barely a sound on the wind, what he heard next. Intangible, maybe part of his imagination. Wishful thinking. But it sounded like Mark, underwater and through soundproof glass.

“I love you.”

The lights came on.

 

*

 

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Ticking away the seconds, like a motorised heartbeat. Everything was hard and cold, muted. The world felt less real, like existence through the wrong end of a telescope. He took a deep breath, but it stopped in his mouth, and when he tried to swallow his throat felt too thick. There was the sound of mechanical breathing nearby, a thick sucking sound, accompanied by something like a balloon deflating.

He tried to make a noise, call out for Nicky.

A feminine voice. Soft, yet roughened by tiredness. “Mark? Mr. Feehily?”

Mark tried to open his eyes, but couldn’t. He felt vague, weak, as though all the energy had been bled from him. The taste of Nicky’s kiss stung his mouth but was fading rapidly, absorbed by this place. He couldn’t feel that lovely murmur in the pit of his stomach, the one that had been Nicky.

There was pain in his throat, and when he tried to talk again, all that came out was a sandpaper rasp.

“Nicky?”

“Mr Byrne?”

He nodded.

“I’m very sorry, sir. We did everything we could.”

 

*

 

Nicky called out Mark’s name again, and heard nothing except the sound of his own voice.

A white expanse stretched out before him. Everything and nothing in one space.

Empty. And alone.


End file.
